


Once A Witch

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Series: Steve Rogers: One Shots and Reader Inserts [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Smut, Steve is a witch, Witch!Reader, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-22 06:10:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17054633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: What if Steve Rogers wasn’t exactly what he showed to the world? What if there was more to him than meets the eye?Steve Rogers has a secret. Just why does his shield seem to defy the laws of physics? And why is he dreaming about a woman he’s never met?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this Ask from Tumblr by @thefanficfaerie: OH YAY!!! I havent made a request in so long. Today I made a Steve Rogers mood board sent in Salem and @auduna_druitt said she wanted a Witch!Reader x Steve Rogers story. And I had this idea. What if Reader x Steve are soulmates in the 16th Century during the Salem Witch Trials. And Steve gets burned at the stake for being a witch. And reader spends centuries trying to find him because he is reborn. One day Steve shows up in Salem because he feels like he needs to be there but isnt sure why.... 
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Tragic death.

## Chapter One

_August 1692, Salem Village, Massachusetts._

In the dark of the night, you were running, fleeing for your life from those who hunted you through the pitch black. The baying of hounds pierced the silence which surrounded you. Your laboured breathing and choked sobs the only other noise to break the quiet stillness.

The hysteria in the village had been growing. Good men and women had been hung after being labelled witches for worshiping the devil.

Henry had been urging you, begging you to leave. It was no longer safe to stay near the village, your quiet cottage in the woods already casting the two of you in the light of being odd. But Mary Ann had been so close to having her babe, and you knew the birth would be a difficult one. Without you there, both she and the child likely would not have survived.

So, he’d relented, and now… Henry was gone.

They had come for you in the night, come for you and Henry. Your husband, your lover. The one you had walked through hundreds of years with. While the girls in the village had raved in hysteria, thrown false accusations on innocent women, you and Henry had been what everyone was looking for.

The two of you were witches.

You’d met five hundred and seventy-two years prior on the eve of a full moon. Two powerful forces drawn together under the moonlight, born of neighbouring clans, meeting beneath the light of the goddess, and falling instantly in love.

Big, bold, and brave, he’d been a most powerful man. Skilled with sword and shield, able to move things with only a thought, and deliver a mighty blow which could fell a man with ease. But not even he had been able to escape death at the hands of a bullet.

From the village, they had come. Men bearing guns and torches, your name on their lips, shouting for your surrender. It seemed it was your turn to be accused of witchcraft.

If only they knew the truth.

And it harm none was your creed. You could do no damage with your magic, but you could protect yourself.

The spell you’d cast had been quick and would not last long. You’d hoped it had been enough for the two of you to sneak into the night, the fog and mist you’d summoned shrouding you both, but you’d been wrong.

A sharp-eyed villager had glimpsed you slipping into the forest and given chase, managing to shoot Henry in the side.

He’d grunted, stumbled, before shoving you forward, forcing you to run.

Thinking it was not as bad as it had seemed, you’d raced into the dark, the trees bending beneath your request and closing behind you, making it difficult for those following.

It wasn’t until he’d stumbled again, his breathing ragged, that you'd realized it was far worse than you’d feared.

Falling to your knees his side, you’d lit a fairy light to see by and cried out softly in dismay. Too much blood had poured down his side, soaking his pants and the ground beneath him.

“Henry, no!” you’d cried when he’d fallen over, managing to catch his head and bring it to your lap.

He’d reached up, flicking your light out. The beautiful blue of his eyes had glowed softly, his magic flaring. He’d placed his hand on your cheek, wet with his blood, and gently stroked it as he always did. “You must run.”

“Not without you!” you'd protested, but he’d knocked your hands away when you’d reached for his wound.

“It is too great. I am not long for this world.”

“No, no, no! I cannot do this without you, Henry!” You’d wanted to scream with denial, but already you could hear the men hunting for you.

“You must!”

Sobbing, biting your fist to keep the sound muffled, you’d cradled his head. “No,” you’d moaned. “Please…”

_“Mo ghaol,”_ he’d whispered, the light in his eyes dimming. “I will not be gone forever. Our souls entwine, our hearts beat as one. I am tied to you, and to you, I will return.”

Nodding, you’d held him and said goodbye, your tears falling on his face until the beat of his heart slowed and stopped beneath your hand.

With the barking of the dogs closing in, you’d whispered a soft spell, “Unto the earth, I return your frame because the goddess calls your name. May she hold you safe and free, until the day you return to me.”

His body sank away from you into the earth, nothing more than a shell which had once housed your greatest love.

Now, running still, you came to the river and paused. Tired, heartsore, and distraught, you rested against the bark of an old maple and reached for the flicker of power inside you. It was muted now with your pain.

Plants and animals were your specialties. Your connection to nature strong, but with how much pain you were in, could you even cast the spell you needed to escape?

Pulling on your magic, you brought your fist to your lips. “Confuse the nose and blind the eye, your senses now become a lie. Return you to where once you came, for everything here smells the same.” Blowing on your fist, you let the power go, shimmering in sparkles through the air.

The baying fell to silence. The dogs milling now, confused and unsure before they picked up again, heading away from you.

Collapsing to your knees, you finally let the tears fall freely.

“Henry…” Whatever would you do without him?

***

  _Present Day, New York City_

Steve Rogers, the noble Captain had a secret. A big one. One no one knew about. He’d thought he’d done a pretty good job of hiding it until the fight at the airport when Spider-Man, the now known Peter Parker and a friend, had called him out on his shield, stating how it defied the laws of physics.

It did, in fact, defy the laws of physics, but not because of the metal it was made from. The vibranium had nothing to do with it. It was because Steven Grant Rogers was telekinetic.

He hadn’t always been. In the forties, when he’d been nothing more than a skinny punk, he’d had no such abilities. It wasn’t until after he’d been injected with the serum and the change had overtaken him that his power became apparent.

The first time he’d figured out something was different had been when he’d gone after Bucky and the 107th. In the forest, when he’d been assured he’d been alone, he’d practiced drawing his gun because let’s face it, he hadn’t exactly been getting in target practice when he’d been touring with the girls.

He’d been taking aim at a tree a few yards away, draw and aim, pretend to pull the trigger, when he’d gone to put his pistol away and accidentally fired it instead. Having still been focused on his _target_ he’d been rather surprised when the bullet had not plowed into his foot, but had curved up and hit the knot in the tree dead center.

Something inside him seemed to awaken with that first incident, and when he’d been given the choice of shield by Howard, he’d taken his opportunity to select a round one, knowing he could pass off his abilities with lucky ricochets.

Too bad Peter was so observant.

Steve also had to admit he’d been a little… slack with his aim. Using his power to call the shield back even though it really should have gone off course. He didn’t know why he didn’t just come out and tell everyone he had these powers, but every time he tried his heart would beat faster, a cold sweat would break out on his body, and a place in his side would sear heat and pain as if he’d been shot. He couldn’t, however, remember ever taking a wound there.

But his unexplained pain was not why he was awake at this ungodly hour, pacing the halls of the tower as he headed to the gym where he would, hopefully, work off enough energy to go back to bed.

Wrapping his hands quickly, he began laying into a heavy bag with vigour, needing to get the stress out.

The sweat had gathered, creating a ‘v’ in the back of his shirt when a voice cleared behind him.

“Steve.”

“Tony.” Steve nodded.

Making his way across the floor, Tony leaned against the wall. “This is becoming a habit for you.”

Steve shrugged, going back to punching the bag.

“Something on your mind, Cap?”

“Nothing.”

“You sure?” Tony asked, frowning.

Sighing, Steve grabbed the swinging bag with both hands and dropped his forehead to it. “I’m having… dreams.”

“Steamy dreams?” Tony grinned.

“Disturbing ones.”

“About?”

“A woman.”

“Wait, wait, wait. How is a dream about a woman disturbing?”

“She's scared, terrified. We're running through the woods… and then I die.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “Well, that would be disturbing.”

“They feel like… it’s stupid, but they feel like… memories?”

“Maybe they are.”

Steve snorted. “Sure.”

“Hey,” Tony muttered, stepping closer, “if Asgardians are the gods of old, why can’t past lives be a real thing too?”

“Past life?”

“You know, reincarnation and shit. Maybe you used to be Cleopatra or something.”

Rolling his eyes at Tony’s smirk, Steve shook his head. “She called me Henry. Pretty sure I wasn’t an Egyptian Queen.”

“You having these dreams every night?” Tony asked.

“For the past three weeks.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Tony waved at Steve’s hands. “Get rid of that. We’ve got work to do.”

“Work?”

“Yeah. We’re going to figure out just what and where you’re dreaming of.”

“Why? What good will that do?”

Tony shrugged. “Maybe none. But maybe knowing the _who_ and the _where_ will be enough to let you sleep. If not… no one said you had to be here round the clock. Take a furlough. Go off and figure it out.”

***

Three hours later, and after many pots of coffee, Steve had an era and a destination.

Flopping backward on his bed, he stared at the ceiling, hoping for a few hours of sleep before getting up, packing, and heading for Salem, Massachusetts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None

## Chapter Two

* * *

Landing in Boston, Steve rented an unassuming vehicle. Not a VW Beetle. He’d learned his lesson after folding and unfolding himself out of that car the last time. Just a nice silver SUV which fit his frame and carted his gear. A duffle bag with a few days’ worth of clothes and his shield sat on the passenger seat.

The look on the face of the woman at the rental counter when he’d handed over his driver’s license and credit card had been amusing, but he’d gotten his keys and signed for the vehicle before she could recover enough to cause a scene.

Following the direction of the NAV system, a much less pleasant experience when he didn’t have FRIDAY the AI to talk to, Steve made his way through traffic, arriving at his destination roughly sixty minutes later.

Pulling up outside the pretty house, he wondered if he wouldn’t have been better to choose an actual hotel, one where he could come and go with some anonymity, but when they’d been searching for lodging, this place had just… stood out to him. Two stories tall, the white house had pretty blue shutters and a multitude of flowers hanging from the flower boxes beneath the windows. A wrought iron gate stood open in welcome, leading one toward the red brick path.

Tugging his cap down low, Steve collected his bags from the passenger seat and headed for the door. It was as blue as the shutters and made him smile a little at the whimsy.

The sign just past the gate read _Salem Sleeps Inn_ , while the one beside the blue door read _No Need to Knock, Just C’mon In_. Following direction, he opened the door, seeming to step back in time as he did so.

Everything was floral from the wallpaper to the rugs, to the needlepoint pillows, interspersed heavily with antiques and dark wood panelling.

Trying not to gape, the bell over the door jangling made him jolt.

Bustling from another room came a short, plump woman who looked to be at least eighty if she was a day, with a cap of snow-white hair appearing fluffy as a sheep’s tail and twice as soft. Glasses hung from a beaded chain around her neck, resting against the pearl buttons of her pink, high collared shirt. Her shoulders were covered with a pretty crocheted shawl, fringe and tassels dangling from the edges, brushing against the denim of her ankle-length skirt.

“Ma’am,” Steve nodded, shutting the door behind him.

“My, aren’t you a big fellow!” she chortled, smiling wide when she reached for her glasses, placing them on her nose as she squinted his direction.

“I eat my vegetables, ma’am,” Steve said, a smile quirking his lips.

She twittered, that was the only word for it, when she giggled, waving him over to the high makeshift desk where she dumped open an enormous book. “None of them new fan dangled computers here, sweetie. We do things old-fashioned.”

“I’m pretty sure I booked online, ma’am,” Steve murmured, wondering if he was in the right place.

“Oh, you did, you did. My grandson takes care of all those things. I just take notes and add you to the register. The rest, he deals with, and ma’am makes me feel _old_. Call me Mary.”

“Mary,” he murmured, taking the antique style calligraphy pen and signing his name.

“Steven Rogers… Rogers…” she muttered. “You’ve got the same name as that Captain, the Avenger. Bet that’s gotten you a few ladies in your day, big, handsome lad like you,” she teased, giving him a wink and reaching for a heavy brass key.

“Something like that,” Steve chuckled. If she didn’t put it together, he wasn’t going to correct her.

“You’ve picked a busy time to visit, what with the anniversary of the trials. Three hundred and fifteen years since the height of the hangings.” She tsked softly, mouth pinched. “Such foolishness. All those innocents dead.” Shaking her head, she waved him to follow, squinting at his bag. “You pack light.”

“Don’t plan on being here more than a few days.”

“Well, that’s nice. A little vacation for yah?”

“Something like that,” Steve muttered, following behind her as they made their way down a hallway barely wide enough for his shoulders, past other shut doors.

“Here you are,” Mary said, placing the key in the lock and opening the door. “Breakfast is in the morning room, just follow your nose. There’s wine and cheese in the parlour in the evening, and you get a twenty percent discount at Frank’s Diner down the street if you mention you’re staying here.”

“Will do.” Nodding, Steve walked in, expecting the same as the rather eccentric and eclectic common areas, only to be pleasantly surprised when the room proved to be a sedate, calm cream with accents of soft greens. The bed, a queen sized one, had a metal rail headboard and footboard, an age rubbed bronze, with a quilt in shades of green upon it.

Through an open door, he spied a modern and more than acceptable bath and dropped his gear on the floor causing his shield to clang.

Mary eyed it for a moment before shrugging. “Let me know if you need anything, Steven dear.”

“Thank you, ma’am- uh, Mary.”

She smiled again, placing the key on a shelf near the door, before showing herself out.

Sitting heavily on the edge of the bed the springs squeaked a little. “What the hell are you doing here?” Steve asked himself.

The image of the woman flashed into his mind. Laughing eyes and bright, magical smile, her hands holding up her apron laden with berries.

Shaking his head, Steve lurched to his feet. It was bad enough he was dreaming about her, now he was getting all new _memories_ during the day.

With a soft sigh, he walked into the bathroom where his eyes were caught by the small, brown glass bottles. The label was an off-coloured cream, looking aged, while a tree whose roots and branches made a circle filled the space above the word _Apothecary_.

Something about the bottle was so familiar, he reached out and plucked it from the self. He knew it, that symbol. Somehow, someway, he knew what it meant.

“Tree of life,” he whispered, running his thumb over the image.

The importance of it escaped him, but he knew it. A piece of his soul lurched, cried out with longing. He had to know where it had come from.

Turning it over, Steve had his heart stutter a second time, for the shop was here in Salem. He need only find it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None

## Chapter Three

* * *

You were puttering in the back of your small shop when the bell chiming above the door alerted you to a new patron. “I’ll be right there!” you called out, wiping your hands on a towel, removing the extra lotion from your fingers.

Creating creams, lotions, and soaps was a passion, one which went well with your calling. After nearly nine hundred years as a witch, walking the Earth and caring for flora and fauna alike, you were finally living in an age where being different, being… _quirky -_ as most people put it - was considered normal.

Having a shop based around herbal remedies and tonics, lotions and creams, soaps and shampoos which did what you claimed they would was a blessing and of interest. No longer were you looked at with fear or disdain when you smiled and claimed you were a witch. Most people quietly chuckled or smiled and nodded. Some claimed kin who were the same.

You highly doubted any were like you. Not many could claim nearly a millennium of life. If they had lived yours, they likely wouldn’t have wanted to.

After the death of Henry three hundred and fifteen years ago, you had searched endlessly for him, waiting with bated breath for his soul to return to you. After three hundred years of living alone, of running, hiding, scraping by to stay alive, you had lost most of your hope he’d ever come back.

An ember of it still burned. You were unable to quell it completely, but you no longer looked at every face to grace your door with expectation. When the Goddess chose to return him to you, she would.

Five years ago you’d decided it was time to return to Salem. You’d loved it there, originally, until things had gone bad. Returning had felt like coming home, and being a _witch_ in a town with Salem’s history had been a boon. Your business had flourished once word of mouth had spread, and now you lived comfortably in a house near the Forest River, on a big enough plot of land to allow you the space to grow gardens filled with much of what you needed for your business.

It was a good life, even if there was a never healed hole in your heart.

Shoving at your hair, you pushed through the curtain which separated workspace from retail, a smile on your lips. The sun hit you just as you looked up, momentarily blinding you, causing you to squint at the large shape silhouetted in the center of the shop.

“Hi! Can I help you?” you asked, raising your hand to shield your eyes from the blinding rays.

The man turned toward you, broad shoulders slightly hunched, blonde hair cropped close, a coat of blue upon his back and jeans clinging to heavily muscled thighs.

A part of you you’d long thought dead stirred to life, desire flaring where none had lived in three hundred years. Letting your eyes trail up over the plaid shirt and chiselled jaw, you felt your heart leap and begin to thunder in your chest when his blue eyes, so bright and vibrant, connected with yours.

“Henry…” whispered from your lips.

“Ma’am?” he stepped closer, effectively throwing his shadow over your so you could lower your hand.

When you did, his eyes widened in shock. “It’s you…”

“Oh, goddess… _Henry_!” Rushing out from behind the counter, you darted forward, only to stumble to a stop when his hands came up defensively.

“I’m not Henry.”

But he was. You could feel the ebb and flow of his magic all around him. Your soul cried out, ached to be closer. Your skin tingled with the desire to have his fingers upon it once more.

It was the look of wary confusion upon his face which finally broke through your amazed joy. He was back. He was here. He was alive! But he didn’t know you.

“No,” you moaned, bringing a hand to your mouth as tears burned the backs of your eyes. “No… I’ve waited… so _long_!” A sob broke through, and you turned away, wrapping your opposite arm around your body as you fought to hold yourself together.

“Hey, now. It can’t be that bad.”

“Three hundred years I wait… only to find you don’t know me.” A despair filled laugh fell from your lips.

“Look I…” he hesitated before stepping closer and taking you by the shoulders. “Please don’t cry, doll face. I never like seeing a swell dame cry.”

_Dollface? Swell? Dame?_

The slang were all things you were familiar with, but they certainly weren’t from this era. “Dame?”

“Uh… yeah.” He let go of your shoulders and stepped back as you turned to face him.

“Can I expect _nifty_ to appear from your mouth next?” you asked, a tremulous smile quaking your lips.

“Would that cheer you up?” he asked, a crooked smile appearing on his face.

“Maybe… a little.”

“I think your shop’s pretty nifty, baby girl,” he drawled.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. Wiping at your face, you rubbed your palm off on your jeans. “Excuse me for getting… emotional, but you look like someone I lost, mister…?”

“Rogers. Steve Rogers.” He held out his hand, but you could only stare at him in awe.

“ _Captain_ Steve Rogers?”

“Uh… _yes_?” His face twisted into an adorable look of apprehension.

“I should have known. You never were one to sit out a fight.” Shaking your head, you pulled yourself together, walked past _Captain America_ , locked the door to the shop and flipped the closed sign. Striding back past him, you headed for your workroom, stopping only to look back at him still standing in the middle of your shop. “Well? Are you coming?”

“Where?”

Smiling, you tilted your head. “To have tea. I assume you’re here for a reason… _Captain_. Come along.”

Once through to the back, you went to fill the kettle and motioned Steve to take a seat on the small sofa while you puttered.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’ve come, Captain?”

“Steve is fine.”

“Steve then.” You flicked the switch on the kettle and leaned against the counter.

He looked at you with those bright blue eyes. Confusion warred with wariness, with distrust. He’d seen much in his life to have him looking at you like that. Henry had once turned that look on other people, but never you.

“Whether you wish to believe it or not, Steve, I mean you no harm. It goes against everything I am to hurt you.”

Something in your words evidently resonated for him as he sighed and began to speak.

“I’ve been having… dreams.”

“What kind?” you asked, collecting teapot and cups.

“About running through the forest at night. About protecting a woman I… loved. And…”

You refused to let your hands shake as you measured out tea from a tin. “And?”

“And of dying.”

The spoon clattered against the pot before you caught it and set it carefully aside. “And these dreams… they led you to me?”

“They led me to Salem. The soap in my hotel led me to you.”

Clicking off the now hot kettle, you poured water into the pot and placed on the lid. Turning with the tray and taking it to the low table, you set it down carefully. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have consultations with people seeking remedies for that which ailed them, and it was always easier to do so in a setting of comfort. While you could have sat in the wingback chair next to him, you settled on the couch at his side, knees touching when you turned toward him.

“Why my soap?”

“The logo.”

“What about the logo?”

“I… know it.”

“Are you sure it isn’t _this_ you know, Steve?” Reaching for the chain around your neck, you tugged out the pendant, letting it swing free.

He inhaled sharply, eyes wide. “That’s… how is that… what the hell is this?”

“Let me tell you a story, Steve. A story which starts nearly nine hundred years ago.”

“Is this a setup? Did Tony put you up to this?” he demanded, leaning closer.

You shook your head and smiled sadly. “No. Not a setup.” With a sigh at his suspicion, you began your tale. “Once, nearly a millennium ago, two witches met on a hillock outside what is now known as Salen on the Isle of Mull. They were brought together by their two clans, neighbouring ones who, for once, were not rivals but friends. Upon that start of summer when the bonfires were lit he, the son of the chieftain, giant of a man and warrior of renown, met her. Daughter of a healer and one of great power.

They fell instantly in love and were hand fasted within weeks. Blessed by the Goddess, they were granted many powers. She, able to control flora and fauna. He, to change the minds of men with his great capacity to speak the truth, or fell them with a mighty blow. He also had a special gift,” you paused, looking up to watch his eyes, “He could move things with a thought.”

Steve startled, stiffening even as he tried to control it. “Nice story, doll, but what’s that got to do with me?”

“The two were blessed to walk this world together. Live full lives and help others. To use their magic for good. Only,” you took a shuddering breath, “they chose to settle here… three hundred and sixteen years ago.”

Sweat had begun to form on his brow. “Don’t.”

“You died trying to protect me. You knew it wasn’t safe any longer, but there was a village woman ready to give birth. She and the babe would have died without me, so we stayed. That night, they came for me. Screaming my name, calling me _witch_. We cast a spell, a quick one, to cover us until we reached the woods, but one villager saw us. He took a shot at you. I didn’t know how bad it was… until you died in my arms.”

“No.” Shaking his head, Steve lurched to his feet. “NO!”

“We walked this Earth for five hundred and seventy two years together. I have walked the last three hundred and fifteen… alone.”

“No. Stuff like that… it’s made up!”

You laughed softly. “Says the leader of the Avengers. A man who’s fought aliens alongside a witch, a giant green hulk, and the God of Thunder.”

He gaped at you before slowly settling back to the sofa. “But… I… you don’t look a day over thirty!”

This time the laughter was not so soft when it burst from you. “Why thank you, Captain!”

He blushed, and oh dear goddess, he was Henry all over. “I didn’t mean…”

Pouring his tea, you slid the cup closer. “I know what you meant.”

He picked up the cup and sipped, his brow rising in evident surprise. “Wow. That’s good.”

“Hm. It is an old recipe.”

He drank silently for a while, the wheels turning, before finally looking up. “I don’t know if I believe you.”

Setting your cup down, you held out your hands. “I can show you, if you like.”

His cup joined yours. Reaching tentatively toward you his hands hovered an inch above. “This going to hurt?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On which memory we fall into.” Grasping his hands, you dragged him into the past with you.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mild language

## Chapter Four

* * *

Firelight glistened off smooth skin as the two bodies moved together under the furs beneath the low ceiling beams. Quiet grunts and low moans filled the air. Outside the small cottage, the wind whistled through leafless trees, branches long grown bare with the winter’s wind.

Shaggy blond hair fell over Henry’s forehead, sticking to the sweat on his skin. The deep blue of his eyes were full of love and admiration. His hands wandered the length of your torso, up to bury in your hair. He kissed you, slow and deep.

“Henry,” you sighed, wrapping your arms around his broad back.

He hummed, pleasure in the sound. His lips whispered over your jaw and down your throat. A warm, wet tongue trailed down to lap slowly at your collarbone. Teeth nipped gently. Time passed as he sucked a dark mark into your skin before he rolled you both over.

Sitting up, allowing the furs to fall from your back, you traced your hands over his battle-scarred chest.

“You look beautiful like that,” he murmured. Strong, calloused hands smoothed over your thighs and up to grasp your waist.

“You say that every time.”

“I mean it every time.”

Leaning down, your pendant swung catching the light. “Do you think we will be like this forever?”

His hand lifted, closed around the heavy silver pendant with the tree of life engraved upon it. “Goddess willing…”

***

Inhaling deeply, you came back to the present to find Steve inches from you with his hand closed around your pendant, the other gripped tightly in yours. His eyes were dark, sultry, still laced with memories when they lifted to yours.

“I… I don’t…” He swallowed thickly, gaze dropping to your lips. “I…”

Slowly you lifted your hand toward his cheek, hesitating, waiting for him to reject you. When no protest came, you laid it gently against his face. The hum of magic, his and yours, blended like the strum of a guitar string up your arm. “It’s alright. It’s a lot to take in.”

Confusion mixed with disbelief in his eyes, but a tendril of something akin to hope shimmered there as well.

“I don’t know you…” he said softly, his hand tightening on yours, “but… I… I can’t deny I… feel things with you, a tugging…”

You smiled, a little sad but still hopeful when you stroked his cheek. “It’s okay.”

He was putting pressure on the chain of your pendant, drawing your closer. You weren’t sure he even realized he was doing so. “You’re a witch?”

“So are you.”

His eyes widened. “No… I… I’m telekinetic,” he said, eyes opening further when shock rippled across his features.

“What? Why did that surprise you?” you asked, shifting your hand to the back of his neck.

“I’ve never… told anyone before. I never could. It was like something held me back, warned me against speaking the words, but with you… they just… came out.”

“It’s because you and I are the same. You’re not telekinetic, well, you _are_ , but it isn’t just your mind at work, Steve. It’s magic. You’re a witch. You’ve always been a witch.”

“Not always. Not when I was still little Steve. I didn’t have this,” he shrugged and frowned, “ability until after the procedure.”

“You were sickly as a child?”

“Yeah.” His frown deepened.

Your smile only grew. “I lived in Canada during the war. I missed you back then. I only recently returned to America.”

“Oh.” He nodded, accepting your explanation.

“It doesn’t surprise me, you being you. You were always one to stand up for what was right. You’ve always been a good man.”

His face was very close, emotion humming from him, tension filling the air. “Why could I never tell anyone else? I work with witches, sorcerers, gods, but I can’t… I couldn’t… not even Bucky knows, and he’s my best friend.”

Sighing, you looked away from his piercing eyes for the first time. “You don’t remember what it was like. The fear, the persecution. All the times you and I have run from death because of the hatred of others. It’s ingrained, Steve. You used to have to remind me, drag me back when I wanted to help where my help wasn’t wanted. _You can’t tell, (Y/N), not ever!_ Those were the words you used to speak to me when I would say so-and-so is so nice! Why can’t I tell her? Surely she’ll understand.”

The pendant hit your chest with a soft thump when he released it to grasp your chin and lift your eyes back to his. “And then we ended up in Salem.”

“And then we ended up in Salem,” you whispered, eyes moist with unshed tears. “I was the reason you died. You were always so… so… careful,” your breath hitched.

“Don’t, doll face. Don’t blame yourself. You didn’t shoot me.”

Your heart pounded hard and heavy in your chest with his words. “You… believe me?”

“I…” he hesitated, “I’m conflicted.”

“Oh.” Your hope crashed down.

“But I can’t deny I… feel things for you that I shouldn’t when I’ve only just met you.”

Hope rose as your heart did, right into your throat.

“And whatever it was, this… vision we shared…”

“Memory,” you whispered.

“Memory,” he murmured, his thumb rubbing along your lower lip in gentle passes, “is too close to my dreams to be dismissed.”

“Steve… I’m telling you the truth.”

Ernest, soul-searing blue eyes latched on your lips where his thumb continued to stroke slowly back and forth, making it tingle. “I want to believe you…”

“Then believe me.”

“I…” he drew closer, warm moist breath smelling of peppermint washed across your mouth.

Your eyes dropped to his lips. Pink, plump, and glistening from the pass of his tongue over them. “I’ve been so alone,” you whispered, shortening the distance even more.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” he murmured. His grip on your chin tightened. His head tilted slowly.

You could feel the heat of his mouth, so near, so close. Your magic reached for his, twined and twisted together in tendrils, joy filling you at feeling him so near.

He shivered at the sensation, his breath coming out in a quiet moan.

Licking your lips, you sighed, “Steve…” as your eyes fluttered closed, yearning for the kiss you’d been missing for three hundred years.

The front door banging open had him jerking back, away, and to his feet. His hand reached for a weapon which wasn’t there while the other closed around your arm and dragged you up behind him. “Thought you locked that door?”

“Hey, (Y/N)! What the heck you doing locking the door in the middle of the day?” came the cheerful voice of Janine.

“My employee Janine,” you informed Steve, laying a hand on his low back. The action, one so familiar, yet so foreign after three centuries of loss, had a quiver of emotion shaking your arm.

She skipped through the doorway only to stop dead. “Oh, I see! Pardon me for interrupting,” she snickered, backing up only to stop again. “Wait… holy shit! You’re him! Captain America!”

Tension radiated up Steve’s spine even as he smiled and nodded. Subconsciously, you lightly rubbed his back, soothing away the disquiet he felt at being recognized.

“Ma’am,” Steve said, his muscles relaxing beneath your touch.

“Janine, Steve Rogers. Steve is…” you smiled up at him when you stepped out of his shadow, “an old friend.”

“You _know_ an Avenger, and you’ve never said anything!” Janine hissed.

You only shrugged it off. “We met… a long time ago. Besides, everyone is entitled to their privacy, Janine. Even Avengers.”

A light flush filled her cheeks, but she smiled brightly and backed away. “Nice meeting you, Cap!”

“And you, Janine,” Steve said, but his eyes didn’t sway from yours. “Old friends?” he said quietly, a smile tugging his lips.

Grinning, you gave another shrug. “For me it is true.”

His face lost its amusement, concern returning to darken his features. “Look, doll…”

The spell you two had been wrapped in was clearly broken. Laying your hand on his arm, you shook your head before he could say any more. “It’s a lot to take in. I understand.”

“I don’t know what to think about all this.”

“Then take some time. I’ll be here if you have questions, or you can find me at my house.”

“And where’s that?”

You looked up into eyes of sky blue, so pure, so bright, so… _loved, longed for, missed_ , and shifted your hand to his chest, pressing your palm to his heart. “Follow your heart… if you really want to find me, you will.”

A skeptical brow arched. “Or I could get a friend to check you out.”

Smirking a little you tilted your head, fluttering your lashes a little. “That you could, but I’d count that as cheating.” Patting his most impressive chest, you lowered your voice to a near whisper. “You’re a witch, Steve. If you believe me at all, even if that belief amounts to a drop in a bucket, trust that you can find me all on your own.”

He eyed you again, but this time you were unable to comprehend what was going on behind those beautiful eyes. With a small nod, he stepped back, turned, and walked out of the back room and out of your shop with a jangle of bells.

Collapsing to the sofa, you let your hands shake as your tears well, and hyperventilated a little.

“Henry,” you whispered only to shake your head. “Steve.”

He was back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst, Language

## Chapter Five

* * *

 The sun was setting behind the trees when the vehicle pulled into your yard. Wiping your forehead with the back of your arm, you gave your wide-brimmed hat a shove to see who it was. The leap of your heart gave away your visitor before he even got out of the car.

When he shut the door, his hands slipped into his pockets as he made his way toward you. Eyes of blue were continually moving, always scanning his surroundings.

“Steve,” you said quietly when he got closer. Knelt in the dirt, you looked the long way up to his face.

“That’s some hat.” He flicked the brim.

“Keeps the sun off.” Removing your gardening gloves, you held out a hand to him, smiling gratefully when he helped you to your feet. Taking up the handle of the basket with your freshly cut roses, you walked away, heading for the old Victorian two story you called home. “What can I do for you, Captain?”

He followed like a puppy, almost timid in his steps.

Holding open your door, you motioned him to enter. “Come in and be welcome.”

“Thanks.” He eyed you as he passed but stepped through the door, taking the basket from your hand as he did.

It made you smile and blush a little for it was so typical of him. Of whom he’d once been.

“I… did like you said,” he murmured softly, the sudden shyness adorable.

“You followed your heart, did you?” Grinning, you tugged your hat from your head, thrusting a hand through your hair to set it to rights, and wandered past the stairs, down the hall to the kitchen.

“I guess so... yeah.”

Chuckling, you tapped the top of the marble kitchen island for your basket and went to collect a vase. “And? How did that feel?”

“Weird.”

Your laughter floated free. “I suppose it would.” Reaching for the clear crystal vase on the open shelving of your kitchen, it jumped from its place and right into Steve’s hand before you could touch it. “Still so tricky.”

He smirked a little, placing the vase down beside your flowers. “What now? What happens next?”

You bit back a smile. He’d never been one to beat around the bush. “That’s up to you, Steve.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s up to you. You can move on with your life, forget me, forget what I’ve told you, forget the life we shared,” pain seared your heart with your offer, “or… I can help you remember.”

He walked around the island straight toward you. His steps were slow and measured. His eyes piercing. When he stood before you, you had to tilt your head a long ways back to see his face.

“I can’t forget, that’s the problem.” Lifting his hand, he touched your cheek. “I went back to the inn, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Couldn’t stop thinking about the sorrow, the loneliness in your eyes. About hearing you say you’d run for your life… for centuries… I… I feel… responsible for you. You’re mine. Mine to protect, to cherish, to… to love, but it so… fast.”

“Oh, Steve,” you whispered as tears filled your eyes. “It’s only fast for you, my brave warrior. I’ve been waiting for this day for three hundred years.”

“I have a real hard time believing you’re almost nine hundred.”

“It is what it is. I can’t change the past.”

“But you’ll change mine?”

“I can’t change what’s already there. You know, you just don’t know you know.”

He gave a slight smile. “That made little to no sense.”

“How about this? Have dinner with me. We can talk or not, it’s up to you. If you want to know more, I’ll tell you. If you don’t, I won’t.”

“Seeing as something smells real good, doll? I’d be crazy not to take you up on the meal at least.”

***

Hours later with the sun long set, you’d fallen for him all over again.

Sweet, charming, kind, but with a wicked sense of humour, that was one Steven Grant Rogers. He’d told you everything about his life, falling into an easy rhythm, one ingrained soul deep.

It was almost as if you’d never been apart, but the years of loneliness weighed on you. And now, sitting across the couch from him, watching him speak with animated hands and laughing eyes about Bucky, Natasha, Sam, and Tony and all the other Avengers, you were at a loss.

He’d built a life for himself. One which didn’t include you.

Would you be taking that away if you helped him remember? And if he did, would he want to stay with you? Would he come to resent you? Would everything you’d fought so hard for be for not?

“Hey? You okay there, dollface?”

Glancing up, you realized you’d missed whatever he’d just said and forced a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, fine.” When you made to collect the dessert plates and coffee cups, his hand closed over yours.

“You can’t lie to me. Not many people can. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

The concern on his face made your decision for you. Drawing your hand from his, you stood to your feet and made your way toward the window. “I think you should go, Steve.”

“What?”

Barely more than a whisper, the word still made you flinch. You desperately wanted to lean your head against the glass, allow the coolness to soothe some of the ache in your heart and head, but you only wrapped your arms around your stomach.

“You should go home.”

“Why?”

The bile in your throat and the searing pain in your heart kept you from looking at him. “You just should!” you said harshly, fighting back the tears.

“I don’t understand.” Getting to his feet, he walked up behind you. “Why are you doing this? I thought… I thought you wanted me to remember.”

With a silent sigh, you shook your head. “That was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before you showed up here with a life! With people and family and a home!” Throwing up your hands, you jerked away when he tried to touch you. “I never even stopped to think what would happen when I found you! When you finally came back to me, I was going to be so _happy_! But this is… and you’re more… and,” you backed away when he advanced, “I can’t do this!”

“I thought we were talking, doll. Just talking. No pressure. No decisions.”

Your back smacked into the wall when you could go no further. “We were. Then things changed.”

“What changed?” he asked, caging you against the wall with his hands to either side of your head.

The tears which had threatened welled up again. “You’re already happy. You… you don’t need me. You could walk away, return to your life, never looking back and still be happy. But I can’t do that. I’ve waited _centuries_ for you! If you remembered and still walked away from me … I couldn’t… couldn’t…” Sobbing, you covered your face with your hands.

Then warm, strong arms were around you, dragging you against a broad chest. “Shhh,” he hushed you, stroking your hair. “You know, I dreamed about you for weeks, and in every dream do you know what it was I felt most?”

“Pain?” you asked with a sniffle.

“Regret.” He tugged you back, allowing him to see your tear stained face. “Regret because I was breaking my promise to you. In my dreams, all I could feel was this horrible regret that I was leaving you all alone. I was supposed to be there to protect you and I… failed.”

“Steve… it was my fault, not yours. I should have left when you wanted to.”

“Stop casting blame on something that happened three hundred years ago!” He gave you a little shake.

“I can’t!” you cried, wrenching yourself away. “Do you know what it was like for me? _Do you_? To watch, helplessly, as you bled out and _died_ in my arms!”

“Yes I know!” he bellowed, grabbing you by the wrists and jerking you back into his chest. “I watched my best friend fall from a train to what I thought was his death. I missed him by _inches_! Inches, (Y/N)! If you think I don’t know exactly how you feel, you’d be wrong.”

The pain in his eyes had you instantly reaching out to soothe him. “Steve… I’m so sorry.”

“And then I found out he’d spent nearly seventy years as a HYDRA pawn because when he _died_ , he didn’t really. He fell from the train only to survive and be captured, tortured, and brainwashed. So yeah, doll face, I get feeling responsible. You can’t let it eat at you though.”

“Still, you don’t need me. You have a life you clearly love.”

“You don’t get to make decisions for me.”

Looking up, you found stubborn written all over him. “In this? Yes, I do.” Stepping back, you lifted your hands. “It is as I was made to fear, you are no longer welcome here.” Within seconds, he was flung out the now open door. The landing wasn’t hard, but it stunned him long enough for you to make it to the opening. “I’m sorry, Steve but you need to go home. Forget about me. Forget everything you think you know. I won’t take away your happiness by being selfish. Not again.”

“(Y/N)!” he snapped, climbing to his feet and stomping for the steps only to be repelled.

“Goodbye, Steve.” Shutting the door, you left your heart on the porch.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst, Anger, Smut - NSFW

## Chapter Six

* * *

Leaning your back against the door, you covered your face and let the tears flow. It was the right thing to do, you were sure of it, but it left a gaping hole in your chest. This one was three times the size of the one you’d lived with for three hundred years. It was fresh and bled pain, but you’d done the right thing. The best thing. The only thing you could.

He deserved to live the life he clearly loved, with the people he loved. To be happy.

You should have known better, though. He wasn’t one to give up that easily, and when you heard the glass shatter, you jerked off the door, spinning to face the man angrily pacing toward you.

“You think you can tell me all this, sit there and look at me with longing and those goddamned eyes and then kick my ass out?” He stormed angrily toward you, shield on his arm and glass falling from his frame from the window he'd crashed through.

Again you found yourself backing away. Not out of fear, he would never hurt you, but out of shock. “How did you… get in?” He never should have been able to get back into the house, not with your spell active and protecting the property.

“Brute force and determination,” he growled, stalking you into the bookshelves.

Backing hard into the wood, you knocked everything over with the connection sending crystals and candles and small statues falling.

Steve’s right hand shot out, and everything stopped before it could smash to the ground. “Careful.”

You were too shocked to do more than stare at him, ignoring the objects which flew past you, returning to their place upon the shelving. It had to be the serum. The amazing serum they’d pumped into him back in the forties. It had done something to the magic inside him, unlocking even more of his strength and abilities than ever before.

Once everything was returned to the bookcase, Steve took the shield from his arm and leaned it against the sofa. “Now, we gonna talk about this, (Y/N)?”

The rolling, swinging stride had you swallowing hard when he continued toward you. His hands came up to grip the shelf on either side of your head as he leaned closer, nearly nose-to-nose with you.

“Steve…” You opened and closed your mouth a few times, caught in the spell his eyes had become. Intense, focused blue, glowing with the depth of both anger and magic.

“What made you rabbit, baby?”

“Goddess save me,” you whispered, his question crooned in a manner most coaxing.

One big hand delved into your hair. “She’s a little busy, doll face. Talk to me instead.”

Darting your tongue out to wet your lips, you gave a shuddering sigh. The heat from his body warmed your previously frozen bones. The way he held your hair caused your heart to pound and your womb to clench. He inhaled, and you were nearly certain he could smell the arousal on you.

“You have a good life, Steve, an important one. One where people depend on you. I can’t be selfish again. I won’t take that away from you. I lost you once because I made you choose between what I wanted and what you did. I won’t do that again.”

“Stop talking crazy,” he muttered, his eyes locked on your lips.

“It’s not crazy!” you huffed, shoving at his chest to no avail.

“It is!” he snapped. “If you help me remember, will I forget who I am right now?”

“Well… no,” you admitted.

“All I do is gain back a few centuries worth of memories with a woman who loved me, and whom I loved, right?”

You nodded slowly, hair pulling against his grip. “And a better understanding of your magic.”

“And you? Do I get you, darlin’?” He leaned into you, his entire body moulding to yours.

A thigh somehow nudged its way between your knees, making you whimper. “If… if you want me.”

“I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you,” he breathed. Dipping down, he closed his mouth over yours in a kiss centuries in the making.

Sighing, you went boneless against him, arms lifting to wrap around his neck. It was a kiss for the ages, one that deserved to be recorded in the history books. His hold on your hair gentled. His hand slipped down to cup your jaw as your mouths moved together in perfect harmony. His opposite hand dropped to curl around your waist and draw you from the bookcase, lifting you up till you were standing on your toes, suspended in both time and against him.

The inquisitive flick of his tongue against your lips had your mouth opening on a moan. A slow exploration began as he took his tongue over your teeth and into the depths of your mouth. His stroked against yours, pressed and played, teasing a moan from your chest.

He broke the kiss only to take a deep breath, his forehead coming to rest against yours. “Baby…”

“Steve…”

You smiled when he did.

He held you against him, still on your toes, mouths so close together you could feel the wash of his breath across them. “Don’t push me away, (Y/N). Something… something _tore_ inside me when you did. It hurt like nothing else ever has.”

“Me too,” you admitted, holding him a little tighter.

Taking another breath, deep and shaking slightly, Steve whispered, “Help me remember.”

“But…” you shook your head.

“What’s holding you back?”

“You’ll have to choose,” you whispered. “Me or the Avengers.”

“Why? Why would I have to choose?”

“Because of me,” you sighed.

He chuckled, actually snickered against you. “Darlin’, why couldn’t you just come with me?”

“What?” Jerking back as far as his arm would allow, you stared up at him in amazement.

“You think they wouldn’t welcome another magic wielder?”

“But… I can’t… I don’t use it like that! I can’t!”

His lips brushed yours when the panic filled your voice. “I know. I know, sweetheart. I’ve got all these things jumbling around in my head, but _and it harm none_ keeps coming through like a heartbeat.”

“You… you’re remembering?” you gasped in shock.

He gave a slow nod and smiled. “Bits and pieces.” Caressing your cheek, he brought his thumb to your lips. “Your taste is so familiar. The touch of your hand. The way your skin smells… I can’t explain it. When I kissed you, it was like the first time and the millionth time all wrapped up together.”

“Steve…” you whispered in awe.

“Help me remember.”

Closing your eyes, wallowing in the caress of his hand and the heat of his large body, a heat you’d sorely missed, you gave in. “Okay…”

***

Even as you led him toward the forest at the back of your property, you wondered if you were making a mistake. The basket on your arm was a heavy reminder that what you were about to do could not be undone. When he’d tried to take it from you, you’d clutched it all the tighter.

Arriving at a small, circular clearing, you crouched to place your hand against the ground. The tall grass waved and retreated, the trees bent their branches back allowing the silver light of the moon to flood over the ground. Your circle formed, filled with green grass, lush and thick and so very soft. A ring of flowers in pure white sprang up, took on an ethereal glow while you quietly cast your seal of protection.

Steve held down his hand to help you up, and you took it, peering closely at his face. While a touch of wonder filled his eyes, he only smiled gently and nodded his agreement again.

Holding onto his hand, you stepped over the threshold, your magic buzzing on your skin. “Come in, Steve. You are welcome in my circle.”

A quiver wracked his body when he did so. The blue of his eyes brightening with the increase in power all around. “Wow,” he whispered, his fingers tightening.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” you said with a small smile.

Taking back your hand, you flipped open the top of your basket. Inside, fat white candles waited. Before you could reach for them, they were up and gone, set out exactly as they should be.

Glancing at Steve, he only shrugged. “Follow my heart, right?”

Smirking a little, you lit them with a wave of your hand and reached for the blanket, the cup and the wine you’d included. “Lay that out for me in the center.” You handed him the thick quilt.

He eyed both it and you but did as asked.

Kneeling down, you whispered a prayer to the goddess and pulled the cork from the wine.

“What’s that for?” Steve asked, dropping down to kneel before you once he’d spread the blanket.

“Courage,” you whispered, bringing the cup to your lips and drinking deeply of the dark red wine laced with herbs. Holding out the cup, you arched a brow when he only looked at it. “It will help.”

He drank, watching you over the rim as he repeated your actions.

When he was finished, leaving a mouthful in the bottom, you took it and poured it over the earth. “Take this offering from my heart and help me as I work my art. As the moon this night rises free, return the love once taken from me, as I will so mote it be.”

The soft white glow of the flowers deepened into silver and shifted into blue. It seeped like fog along the grass, flowing in tendrils toward you.

Returning to your feet, you held your hands out for Steve as the first wisp of your magic touched him.

“I… know this place,” he said, staring wide-eyed at the forest.

“Yeah… you do.”

He pointed toward the grove of willows. “There… there was where I…”

“You died. I returned your body to the earth in that grove, and when I bought this house and land, I set a marker for you.”

Turning to you, he gathered you close. “What now?”

A blush filled your face. With a deep breath, you reached up and touched the button nearest his throat. “We need to… you and I need to…” Plucking at the button, it came undone, and you stroked the flesh laid bare.

Colour filled his cheeks. “Really?”

“Sex magic is potent,” you murmured. “We used to… all the time… when we worked a really big spell.”

Determination filled his eyes. Hot hands dipped beneath the hem of your simple t-shirt and stroked the skin of your back.

Your whole body quivered at the contact.

“I’m up for it, baby,” he crooned, lips brushing yours in a tender kiss.

“Steve… be sure… it’s not too late to stop this.”

“I am sure. I’ve been sure since shortly after dinner. You’re the one who drop-kicked me out of your house.”

“Really?”

He pulled back enough for you to see the gentle glow of his eyes and sweet smile. “Yeah. It was taking everything in my power not to jump you in your living room. There’s this… part of me that keeps growling _mine_. I’m tired of fighting it.”

Your shirt came up over your head with such speed, you gasped out excitedly. Especially as his hands remained on your back while yours were now firmly held above your head by his magic. “Still so tricky.”

Chuckling and tracing his fingers over the band of your jeans, he slipped his palms back to grip your ass and drag you up against him.

The press of his erection into your stomach had you moaning and rocking on your toes. “Steve… please!”

When he released your hands, clothing came off in a frenzy of buttons and tearing seams. The tension which had been building all night, all day, was finally peaking.

Hands roamed everywhere leaving trails of shivering skin and gooseflesh in their wake. Teeth and tongues clashed as kisses grew out of control.

He dropped to his knees to place openmouthed kisses on your stomach, and you cradled his head. The sensations were so familiar but so strong, you cried out when his hand closed over your breast.

“Easy, baby,” Steve murmured against your flesh while tugging and rolling your nipple.

“Oh, Goddess! It’s been so long!” Dragging his head back, you dropped over his lap, your thighs spread wide to straddle his.

It had a harsh groan rippling from him for your dripping wet core skimmed his hard cock like a lover’s teasing caress.

He went over on his back on the quilt, taking you with him.

Plastered to his chest, you nipped and kissed his jaw, rocking your hips down on his clenching abs, trying to ease the ache flooding your core. “I’ve missed you so much. I need you so bad.”

Hard hands grasped your ass, lifted and set you back so your wet heat could slide over his throbbing shaft. There was a spark of memory in his eyes when you looked at him questioningly.

“Take what you need from me. I give it freely.”

Tears gathered again, threatening and finally falling with the words. Sitting back, you began to rock your hips over him, rolling your wet core on his thick cock. Each slide brought friction to your aching clit.

His hands locked around your waist, dragging you down harder over him and higher to catch the head of his erection. “That’s… oh damn…” he panted, eyes glazed and heavy-lidded with lust.

“Wait for it!” you gasped, lifting your hands in the air. The mist closed in, wrapped over you both, curled its way up your body to dance around your fingers. Power flowed into you, gradually growing waves of intensity which lit you up and set your body on fire. “Now!”

Lifting your hips, Steve brought you back down, driving his cock up at the same time, filling you so full you screamed and nearly lost the hold you had on your spell. Throwing both hands out, you began to move again, ride the overwhelming fullness between your thighs with vigour.

The silver moonlight fell upon your spine and set you glowing, filling you with strength and the power of the Goddess even as your long lost lover returned physical pleasure to your life. He cursed softly, drawing your attention down to his face.

Brows drawn together, his tight grip on your waist registered for the first time. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His eyes gleamed the bluest you’d ever seen them. They lifted from where your pendant swung against your chest to your eyes, held for a moment more. Then he was surging up, the show of strength making your core clench around him.

“You’re so damn beautiful like that. Look at you glow, baby.” His hands drifted down to grasp your ass, lift and lower you over the hard length of him.

“So long…” you moaned. “I missed you…”

His teeth nipped into your lip.

Tight coils of pleasure had wrapped so firmly around your womb you thought you’d explode before you finished what you started. The slick glide of him through your fluttering walls drew harsh grunts and sexy growls from his throat. You wanted nothing more than to simply fall into the passion, but the spell was so close to being finished you held back, held out for a few more seconds.

“Tell me your close,” he moaned, his mouth dropping to lay sucking kisses to your throat and shoulder.

“So close.” Every part of you throbbed and burned for him. Shockwaves of pleasure pulsed with every beat of your heart, with every thrust of his heavy cock through your tight core.

When the final remnants of the spell gathered around you, you brought your hands to rest on his shoulders continuing to roll your hips. Your breasts connected with his chest, nipples rubbing most pleasingly as you clutched him closer. “I missed you _mo ghaisgeach, mo ghaol._ ”

One big hand threaded into your hair, tugged your head back for his lips to find the hollow of your throat. “ _Thoir dhomh a h-uile dad, mo leannan_.”

The mist wrapped tightly around you both, the magic finally peeking as the love you’d been holding back came forth on a cry of his true name. “Aneirin!” screamed from your lips when your orgasm overcame you, tightening your walls and milking his cock in rapid contractions.

“Nessa!” he bellowed, body shaking as he followed you over into ecstasy, the hot wave of his seed making you whimper.

Draped over Steve, body humming but exhausted, you rested against his chest and shoulder while your heart slowed and breathing normalized. The gentle stroking of his hands over your back was almost enough to make you purr like a kitten.

“Nessa…” he whispered, his face nuzzling into your throat. “Oh, Goddess, Nessa! I remember. I remember everything!”

“Welcome back, Aneirin,” you sighed happily. The world rapidly tilted and you giggled to find yourself beneath him.

Bright, excited eyes full of love peered down at you. “How could I… I can’t believe… I forgot you. Oh, darlin’.” Pressing his forehead to yours, he shuddered.

“Not your fault. Not your fault at all.”

Tracing your fingernails over his back, you smiled when you felt your heart beat in time with his. Content and whole for the first time in three hundred years, you wallowed in the warmth of his body.

“You’re too giving, _mo ghaol_.”

“I’ve missed you Aneirin.”

“Think I’ll stick with Steve.”

“Steve…” You turned your head to see him in the moonlight. “What happens now?”

Settling to your side, he pulled you in close and gently touched your cheek. “I’d hope you’d come home with me, back to the tower. Come meet the team and I think… I think we’ll tell them the truth.”

“Really?” Stunned you could only stare.

“Yeah. It’s not like it was in the past, Nessa. I trust them, I really do. I think it’s time.”

Taking a shuddering breath, you gave a slow nod. “I like (Y/N). And I’ll go anywhere you want, as long as I’m with you.”

He smiled then, big and wide, and rolled you underneath him. “No need to go anywhere for a few days. I’m still on furlough and have a few centuries to make up for.”

Laughing, you clutched him close and breathed him in. While it might scare you, your future unknown and new people on the horizon, you had him back. Aneirin, Henry, Steve. The love of your life was once again back at your side.

Whatever came next, as long as you had each other you would be alright.

**_-The End-_ **

_mo ghaisgeach, mo ghaol_ \- my brave one, my love _  
_ _Thoir dhomh a h-uile dad, mo leannan_ \- Give me everything, my darling.


	7. To Meet A Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thefanficfaerie asked: Congrats on your follower milestone!!! That is so awesome!!!! You deserve them all!!!! For my drabble can we check back in with once a witch have reader meet the avengers, please?!?? *gives big puppy eyes* 
> 
> Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

## To Meet a Witch

* * *

“I don‘t know about this, Steve,“ you mumbled, clinging to his hand while standing outside the doors of Avengers tower. 

“Hey,“ he said softly, pulling your attention off the bustling interior beyond the glass doors and up to his face. “They‘re my friends. They‘ll understand. They may want Wanda to take a walk through your head, hell I’ll even let her wander through mine if she needs to, but they’re good people. You’re safe here.“

His eyes were a bright blue, nearly electric when he smiled down and arched his brows, wrinkling his forehead with the action, while waiting for you to decide to go inside.

“Okay,“ you whispered. 

People called greetings to him as you walked across the foyer. Steve smiled and nodded, or waved to each, seeming to know everyone and every name to every new face. But it wasn’t until you got on the elevator and it greeted him by name that you jumped.

“Easy, baby. It‘s just Friday,“ he assured you. “She‘s Tony‘s AI.”

“She’s got a bit of a lit to her. Reminds me of home,” you said softly but stepped closer to him. 

“Hey? You’re gonna be fine here. Promise.“

“I‘m more comfortable with flowers and plants than computers and tech, Steve.”

“Don‘t worry.” He pushed your hair back behind your ear. “There are at least three floors in this tower that I’m aware of which have nothing on them. We‘ll make sure one gets converted to gardens and a work area for you. I’m not asking you to give anything up, not even your house if you don’t want to. I‘m just going to give you space here with me. I want you here, Nessa, with me,” he crooned as he cupped your cheek and dipped down to press a kiss to your mouth. 

The gentle whisper of his lips and ebb and flow of his magic against your own was the most soothing of security blankets. You relaxed into him enough to curl your fingers around the lapel of his jacket. The pressure increased as he coaxed your lips apart, slipped his tongue between your teeth, and hummed in pleasure when you twined yours with his.

Neither of your noticed when the doors slid silently open until a throat cleared. 

Still, Steve took his time lifting his head, making sure to sink his teeth into your lower lip, an action you craved like air for it had been missing for three hundred years. Once, it had been the ending to every kiss. With the return of his memories, it was once again. 

“Find what you’d been looking for there, Cap?“ snickered a taunting voice. 

You looked at him and recognized Tony Stark. It wasn’t like you‘d lived under a rock these last few years. Stark was active in renewable energy, something you found fascinating and exciting being a nature bound witch.

“Yeah,“ Steve said softly, and you glanced back at him to find his smile so full of love it made you blush. “I‘ve got quite the story to tell. The team gathered?“

Tony nodded. “Waiting in the lounge.” 

Steve squeezed your hand. “Ready?”

“I think so.” You glanced again at Tony Stark who continued to stare without shame. 

“Let‘s go then,  _mo leannan.”_

He urged you off the elevator, and you found yourself following Tony down a long winding hallway, finally ending in a large room surrounded by glass, full of comfortable chairs and couches, a pool table, and an impressive bar. 

Before you sat the entire team. After three days in which you’d done nothing but talk and spend time together - most of it naked - you knew each of them on sight. 

They all looked at you with curiosity and interest, especially with how you held Steve’s hand like a lifeline. 

“Seems Cap found his dream girl,” Tony chuckled, heading for the bar.

“Not just that,“ Steve said and took a deep breath. “Turns out, I’m a witch.“

There was a moment of silence before the laughter started. 

“Yeah, and I‘m a fairy. Tell me another one, punk,” Bucky snickered leaning against his pool cue while Sam lined up his shot. 

Steve gave a quiet sigh, lifted his hand, and jerked the pool cue from Bucky’s hand. It flew across the room, and Steve picked it out of the air. “I‘ve always wondered about them sparkly wings, Buck.“

You snickered, unable to help yourself when they gaped in amazement. “Show off.“

He shot you a grin. “Everyone knows about the dreams I‘ve been having, but they weren‘t dreams. They were memories of my time with (Y/N). Of when I… died.” His smile slipped.

You reached up to stroke his cheek. “It’s alright, Aneirin, _mo ghaisgeach, mo ghaol._ We’ve found each other now. That‘s what matters.“

“Question?‘ Bruce held up his hand. “Who are you, and what voodoo did you do to have him believing this cockamamy story?”

“Bruce!“ Pepper gasped. 

“What? We‘re all thinking it!“ he shouted. 

You flinched and retreated, stepping back behind Steve. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.“ 

“No, Nessa! Don‘t go,“ Steve pleaded, turning to take you by the arms. “I can‘t lose you again.  _Tabhair deis dom a mhíniú_.”

Before you could agree or disagree, you felt the invasion but didn’t fight it when the foreign mind brushed yours. Then, Wanda gasped. 

“You’re nine hundred?!” 

You could have heard a pin drop. Staring up at Steve, you sighed and gave a nod when his beseeching eyes begged you to stay. When you turned back to the room, he placed himself at your back, wrapped his arms around your waist, and plastered his body to yours protectively. 

“The man you know as Steve Rogers was originally born Aneirin nearly a millennium ago on what is now known as Salen on the Isle of Mull. We met and married there, were blessed by the Goddess and granted many gifts. We were blessed to walk this world together. Live full lives and help others. To use our magic for good. But I made a mistake three hundred and sixteen years ago and Steve was killed. Now,” you looked up at him. “The Goddess has returned him to me.”

“You’re a traditional witch?” Wanda asked excitedly. “Creams, and potions, and spells? Truly?”

“Yes. I make organic health and beauty products for my business, as well as tonics and healing potions.”

“You’re telling us this… isn’t bullshit?” Bucky grumbled.

“Buck… I figured out I had powers when I went after the 107th. I’ve been… fudging things ever since,” Steve admitted. 

“I knew your shield was defying the laws of physics!” Peter crowed.

“Yeah, well…” Steve rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“So you’ve been lying to me all these years.” Bucky crossed his arms, the move defensive. 

“Buck, c’mon! It’s not like that!”

“It’s exactly that! You could have told me! I was your best friend, for Christ sake!”

“Please!” You held up your hands. “You don’t understand!”

“Then it explain it to us, his _team, no_ his _family_ why he kept this from us all these years when he knows everyone else’s dirty secrets!” 

The man with the metal arm scared you a little, his anger understandable, but you’d hate yourself if Steve lost his best friend because of you. “For nearly five hundred years we lived in secret, constantly on the run. Witches were persecuted. Anyone who was different was persecuted. Aneirin- Steve was my protector. So many times I wanted to tell this person or that person. Help where it was dangerous. He always pulled me back. It was his _one_ rule! We tell _no one_! Then we ended up in Salem… during the witch trials. He died. He died and it was _my_ fault because I couldn’t leave yet. He could see it coming. I made him stay! And that night they showed up with torches and guns!”

Steve dragged you around and into his chest when you burst into tears. “Shh, baby, _mo leannan._ I’m fine. Everything is fine.” The steady beat of his heart slowly brought your rate down and back in concert with his. “Wanted to, Buck. I’ve wanted to tell all of you for years, but I would try and it was like the words froze in my throat. Pain would sear through my side and I’d break out in a cold sweat.  I thought it was a side effect of the serum, that’s all. I had no memory of the past, or Nessa, of our life together until the dreams started.”

“What changed?” asked Natasha.

“(Y/N) helped me remember. Five hundred years together.” He cupped your face, tilting it up to wipe the tears from your cheeks. 

Everyone looked at Wanda who was all smiles and nods. “It’s all true! I can see the years, the memories. So much love,” she sighed happily. 

It was like a switch flipped with her approval and their smiles returned as they gathered round to welcome you to their midst and ask a host of questions too quickly to really be able to answer. 

Except one.

“Why now, punk? You could have kept this a secret, strung out your relationship with your girl, and we’d never been the wiser. So why lay it all out there?” Bucky asked.

“It’s like you said, jerk. You’re my family. All of you. We trust each other with our lives. You trust me with your secrets. It’s past time I do the same. Having (Y/N), my Nessa back, only made it easier with her agreement.”

You looked up at Steve and smiled. It had been a little rocky, your introduction, but everything had been alright in the end, just like Steve, your Aneirin, had promised.

**_-The End-_ **

* _mo leannan - my darling_

* _mo ghaisgeach, mo ghaol - my brave one, my love_

* _Tabhair deis dom a mhíniú_. - give me a chance to explain


	8. Tricky Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> manchildstagram asked: Hi. For drabble day could you do a drabble of 'once a witch' where Steve and Nessa go back to the team and just get to know each other and Nessa and Wanda bond over their powers and Nessa teaches her new ways to use her powers. Basically a fluffest where the avengers love her and her and Wanda become bffs.
> 
> Warnings: Smexy and fluff

## Tricky Witch

Steve smirked a little grin as he walked into what the residents of the Tower had lovingly begun referring to as Eden. When he’d brought Y/N - his Nessa - home, it had taken a few days for people to completely settle down and get over their shock at finding out he was a centuries-old witch who’d been killed during the time of the Salem Witch Trials and reborn during the nineteen hundreds only to become the Captain America they knew today.

There had been disbelief and distrust and a whole lot of anger - on Bucky’s end - when Steve’s hidden abilities had come to light. Still, strange, weird, and downright unbelievable was the norm for the group of people he’d come to call family, and the Avengers as a whole had welcomed Nessa with open arms. 

The most excited of them all was Wanda. Never before had the Scarlet Witch had someone of similar affiliations to learn from. Wanda’s magic was so inherent, so ingrained in her very cells, she just _did_ things, but watching Y/N work a spell, create a healing tonic or lotion was fascinating to Wanda, and Y/N had swiftly taken the _little witch_ under her wing, teaching her the old ways. The ancient ways of the Goddess and the magic Steve remember from his first birth.

They’d become fast friends, but then, Nessa had never had trouble making friends. It had been what had been so dangerous to them in the past. Here, she was _free_ , and Steve watched her flourish under the renewed _village_ she’d been adopted into. And he was _happy_. Bone deep. Soul deep. _Happy_.

They explained away her presence by stating she was a new recruit. Powerful in her own right, but unable to wield offensive magic, Y/N was of very little interest to the higher-ups and bigwigs of SHIELD. Fury, of course, new everything, but that didn’t bother Steve. Fury always knew everything. 

What no one had yet realized was Y/N’s defensive magic was _the shit,_ as Sam had put it. She’d created talismans of protection for every one of them and had developed a tonic which could be taken internally to slow or even stop blood loss on a critically wounded person. She often performed spells of good fortune and asked for blessings from the Goddess when the team had to go on a mission.

She’d become an invaluable member, and their success rate was rising thanks to her involvement. It was garnering attention, but they guarded Y/N like she was the Arc of the Covenant. No one knew her true purpose, and anyone who came at her would be swiftly, and violently, shown the door. 

When Tony had learned of her abilities with plants and how she used them in her spells, he’d happily taken two empty floors of the tower and gutted them, working with Y/N to build her Eden. For the first time ever money was no object and Tony wouldn’t let her tap the brakes when he was full speed ahead on the project. Only the best would do, and soon concentric rings of flower beds were being built, each one a circle of protection, a ring within a ring, finally ending at the center where young ash trees had been planted to enclose her sacred circle and the bower she worked much of her magic in. 

The center was grass, soft and low. Her magic keeping it from ever needing mowing. Everything one could ever want grew in her environmentally controlled Eden from the deadliest of plants to the sweetest of fruits, the most tantalizing vegetables, and the softest scented flowers. Each touched by her magic, she fed the team from her garden and they all benefited from the bounty.

While she kept her shop in Salem - and her house for when they had downtime together - she’d moved her business to the Avengers tower and had taught all of them at one time or another how to make soap, infused oils, and mix body creams. 

Somehow, likely with Fury’s assistance, Tony had managed to have the ceiling of her Eden reflect the sky over the tower, giving Ness the opportunity to work beneath the moon to harvest her plants or perform her spells while staying behind the safety of the Tower’s walls.

The first time he’d made love to her in her circle beneath the starlight sky, she’d called down the moon - a spell meant to connect her to the Goddess while renewing her strength and filling her with light - and it had worked with the same effects it always had. 

Vigorous, lustful, energetic effects that had left them exhausted and panting and naked, falling asleep right there and prompting Tony to install locks on Eden’s doors when he’d wander in to take a morning stroll with his coffee in the soothing environment and ended up seeing… _things,_ as he put it, he had no desire to ever see again.

Bucky had jokingly created a sign which said, “Magic in Process. Enter at your own risk,” and had slapped it to the frosted glass doors, but Y/N had loved it and begun using it even when _sex magic_ wasn’t involved.

Having her concentration interrupted when she was working something convoluted could result in things… exploding. 

Of course, with Wanda’s curiosity came Vision’s, and Natasha was more suspicious than curious at first, but that didn’t last long. Pepper had taken a look at the potential for Y/N’s business venture and begun helping with marketing. Maria absolutely adored Y/N’s skin products, and when Clint had taken some home to Laura, she’d insisted on meeting the woman behind the miracle creams herself. This had prompted his girl to invite all the women to participate in a little magic beneath the moon, and she’d brought them into her circle to experience what it was like to feel the Goddess and her energy when Y/N worked another drawing down of the moon. 

It was a simple but powerful spell, one even non-magical folk would benefit from. The women’s partners certainly had. The men all asking when the next time Nessa would like to hold a party with her newly minted “coven” would occur so they could be better prepared for the… lusty benefits.

Steve had laughed, but Y/N had actually been pleased by the idea of having the other women learn and participate if they wished. Hence the reason Steve was wandering into Eden far later than normal in only his bathrobe. 

The women were finishing up, but his Nessa had other spells and things to work tonight, ones which required a little more _oomph_ than she could create on her own. Showing up “prepared” meant with as few clothes as possible when she lost the light white gown she wore when others were watching. 

The hum of magic and the pure burst of energy washed over him, signifying the closing of her spell, and he walked the smooth gravel path toward the center of the room. The circles had him winding around, smirking a little when the women came laughing and stumbling, giggling and drunk on the moon toward him.

Each grinned wickedly and eyed him knowingly, but it had stopped bothering him a long time ago. Unlike the Steve he’d once been, the one who remembered his past life was confident in all things. Blushing and fumbling about something so natural and potent was no longer an issue. He accepted the teasing when he and Nessa rocked the tower or accidentally blew out the power once or twice, but Tony had learned to put things on the backup generators, and FRIDAY was programmed to shut down all vital information for however long the readings between them were spiking. 

Depending on what they were working, sometimes that was thirty minutes, sometimes it was three hours. But when the climax of sex magic shot off like an EMP, it was better safe than sorry. 

Especially as Nessa had created her Eden to magnify her workings. Circles within circles, rings within rings, and the core of power in the middle, they had never worked such powerful magic as they had once her garden was built. 

They’d had to inform Strange the first time they’d worked the protection spell on the team’s talismans. The last thing they needed was the Doctor showing up in the middle of… everything.

Stephan had smirked but nodded, saying he would be aware of their… _coming_. 

Steve had rolled his eyes and flipped him the bird.

Now, occasionally, Stephen had Y/N assist him when he found something curious. Tonight was one such assistance. Strange was looking for an object of power, something which, if it fell into the wrong hands, could prove catastrophic for the rest of them. 

A location spell usually didn’t require such lengths, but the orb was protected, and Nessa needed the power kick. 

Striding into the clearing, he waited at the treeline, watching as she slipped the gossamer gown from her shoulders. Goddess, she was beautiful. He would never get tired of seeing her cast in nothing but moonlight and candle flame, her body sparkling with the drawn power of the moon. 

“Nessa,” he called softly.

She turned, and she smiled, and she was the Goddess personified when she walked toward him and held out her hand. “Aneirin,” she purred. “Be welcome in my circle.”

He stepped over the threshold, and the candle flames shot into the air. “Potent tonight,” he crooned, already feeling the lick of lust spike in his blood with the call of her magic.

“I was excited for this,” she said softly, drawing him toward the center of the circle and tugging at his robe. “What about you, Cap? You bring your A game?”

“Always,” he chuckled, shedding the garment so he could yank her in against his bare body. “Fuck I love this place.” It was like her Eden just hummed with power.

“Wanda left a little of herself behind to help out,” she said, motioning toward the red whisps which curled the candles flames. “That girl has serious potential.”

“She loves you nearly as much as I do,” Steve hummed, kissing her throat. 

“Steve?” she said quietly, soft as a mouse.

He lifted his head in confusion. “Yeah, baby?”

She smiled and it was everything, bright with love and joy. “Thank you for bringing me home.”

“Darlin’,” he cupped her cheek and kissed her tenderly. “I’ll always bring you home.”

She nodded, her delight seeming to sing from her. “This really is home. I never expected to find a place like this ever, and here we are. Home and family.”

“Nessa?” he murmured, concerned when tears filled her eyes. 

“Family,” she whispered and placed his hand on her belly.

“Wha… really?” he wheezed, staring at her in amazement. 

“Yeah, really.” Her smile grew even bigger. 

Steve lifted her up and swung her in a circle before putting her down gently. “We can’t do this spell.”

“No, we can’t,” she agreed. 

“Strange was counting on us,” Steve muttered.

“No, he wasn’t.” She grinned broadly, a twinkle in her eye.

It only took a second to clue in. “You set me up!” 

“Yes, I did!” she laughed.

He tugged her back into his body and shook his head. “Tricky witch.”

“Just the way you like me,” she giggled.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I do.” As he leaned down to kiss her, Steve murmured, “This doesn’t mean we can’t make our own magic, right?”

“Most definitely,” she agreed. 

He lowered her to the ground and grinned happily when he kissed her still flat belly. “Though, technically wasn’t that what got us in this trouble in the first place?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Steven,” she huffed, giving his hair a tug. 

He raised himself above her and murmured, “Yes, ma’am.”

**_-The End-_ **


	9. New Year, New Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:  
> For the Christmas ask thing, I actually have one for New Years if you don’t mind? Since I’m an agnostic witch (or at least tying to be) I don’t put much stock in Christmas, but New Years has always held a sort of new energy for me, so could you do like a New Years Drabble over that one story about how Steve is witch reborn (I can’t think of the name, I’m sorry) pls and thank you I love your writing
> 
> thefanficfaerie asked:  
> I was trying to think of something for Nessa and Steve for your Christmas prompts but all I could think was winter solstice so I might keep thinking.

* * *

Steve stood to the side with Thor and Loki and Heimdall watching as his Nessa invoked the Goddess and lit the Yule fire. It was the winter solstice and while neither he nor Nessa had ever worshiped the gods of Asgard, they did celebrate similar traditions.

A fire lit at dusk would be watched and tended until dawn, while all enjoyed food and drink. His little witch was working her magic beautifully while Steve watched from without the circle. She called upon the Goddess to see them safely through the longest night.

While the entire team gathered to bear witness, it was the three gods to whom Steve had gravitated. They above the others understood best the significance of Y/N’s rites, and they along with Wanda and Dr. Strange could appreciate the beauty and strength of her magic.

Then she turned and looked at him, her smile soft and full of love and held out her hands. Dressed in a pure white robe edged in silver and patterned with stars, a solstice gift Steve had created, she looked like what she was. A powerful, sacred, Goddess blessed witch.

He walked toward her barefoot, wearing ancient garb in dark navy, a tunic and pants wrapped from ankle to knee. Around his neck swung her pendant, the tree of life, a toy and distraction for the tiny bundle in his arms.

Their daughter had come squalling into the world six weeks ago in the midst of the worst blizzard New York has seen in a hundred years. She’d announced her birth with winds and snows and her arrival was met with a crack of lightning that could rival Thor’s, but when she’d opened her silver-grey eyes and looked into Steve’s the storm had lost is fervour, the winds receded, and the snow slowed to a stop.

Born right here in Eden in a circle of protection built by Wanda and the women of Nessa’s coven, his daughter had slipped into his hands and been born while Nessa had laughed and cried her joy.

Of course, all were curious to know her name, but Steve and Nessa weren’t about to break tradition when it was clear their child would be a most powerful witch and force for good. She would be consecrated to their Goddess first and then her name would be known. They could have easily chosen any night to do so, but his love wanted it done on the solstice. Six weeks was a long time for a child to be nameless but they managed, keeping mostly to themselves and out of the public eye.

Steve took Nessa’s hand but waited until she smiled. “Aneirin, be welcome in my circle.”

He stepped through loving the way her magic felt warm and welcoming on his skin. “Nessa.”

She held out her arms for their child, and Steve released the babe back to her mother. Then he removed the pendant from around his neck and returned it to hers.

“Nine hundred years I’ve waited for you,” she whispered to the babe who smiled and cooed, kicking at the blankets she was wrapped in.

Steve moved behind Y/N, closing his arms around his love and opening himself for her to draw through. “When your ready, love.”

Y/N smiled and lifted her face to the ceiling of stars. “Goddess of the forest and wild places, see me. Goddess of rivers and mountains, hear me. Goddess of light and love, know my face. To you we, your blessed children, consecrate our daughter so she may be unto you a force for good. Grant her your grace, goodness, and blessings so she may grow as strong and righteous as her father.”

Steve chuckled. “Grant her your power and protection so she may be sweet, kind, and generous as her mother.”

She shot him a look but didn’t contradict him. “Goddess who guides our lives and steadies our hands, watch over this precious, loved, and longed for child so she may be a witch like no other. We name her Avalon Morrigan Rogers, daughter of Nessa and Aneirin, Y/N and Steven, a child of nature, a witch beneath this solstice moon. May her power and her honour be as deep and lasting as this longest night.”

“As we will, so mote it be,” Steve spoke with Nessa, his hand cupping the head of his tiny daughter.

The candles flared high causing Steve’s instincts to go on alert as he dragged Nessa around behind him, but when the figure in flowing gossamer robes appeared, he swiftly lowered to his knee. “ _Mo bandia!”_

 _“_ _Mo chosantóir,”_ she smiled. “Rise.”

He stood without fear. “My daughter.”

Nessa walked out from behind him with Avalon. “ _Mo bandia.”_

“ _M o chailleach.” _ She held out her hands and accepted Avalon with the ease of one who’d held many children. “It has been some years since a child was blessed in the old way. I knew it would be you Nessa and Aneirin. How far you’ve come. How happy I am to see you reunited. How pleased I am with this child.” She lifted Avalon and kissed his daughter’s brow. “Go, child. Go out into this world and save it from itself. Be the beacon of hope you are meant to become. Blessed be.” The Goddess handed Avalon back and touched Nessa’s cheek. “May joy once more fill your heart.”

Y/N smiled. “It does. Every day.”

She nodded and reached for Steve’s hand. “You have reached beyond what I envisioned for you, and your daughter is the result of that. Blessed be, Steven Rogers. Blessed be, Captain.”

“Thank you, Danu.”

The Goddess smiled a final time and vanished, their circle of protection going with her for the ritual was complete. Still, the yule log burned brightly.

“Who the hell was that!” Bucky barked.

Steve smiled at Nessa when she giggled. “The Great Mother Goddess. Danu of the flowing waters, Queen of the fertile land. You didn’t just think all this magic came from nowhere, did you, Buck?” he teased.

Bucky tossed up his hands but strode forward, the first to join them in Eden’s heart. “So, Avalon, huh?”

“Avalon Morrigan Rogers, and your goddaughter.” Steve burst out laughing when Bucky gaped at him. “Close your mouth, Buck. You look like a fish.”

Nessa giggled as she placed Avalon in Bucky’s arms and shooed him off to let the others fawn over their daughter. Then she wrapped her arms around Steve and rested her head on his heart. “Happy New Year, Steve.”

He caressed her cheek, tilted her face up, and kissed her sweetly. “And blessed be, Y/N.”

-The End-

* * *

Mo bandia - my goddess

Mo chosantóir - my protector

mo chailleach _-_ my witch


End file.
